


Earl Grey and Regret

by bgrrl



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 02:03:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/302524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgrrl/pseuds/bgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ewan finds out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earl Grey and Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Lies! All lies!  
> Notes: This is the sequel to Wine & Understanding Please read that story first. Thanks to sam_erotica for the beta, and the compliments. This fic was written in response to ewan_hayden's July challenge, The Other Woman  
> X-posted at ewan_hayden

The exhausted actor pulls his car slowly into to the driveway, turns off the engine and sits. Why does he still do this? Ewan had long ago lost the illusion that Jude would ever feel anything for him, at least anything that could be considered love. 

 _I must be masochistic._   
 All Jude ever gave him was pain. When did life get so complicated?

"The day you met Jude," he whispers to himself 

The moment the pretty Englishman smiled, all he wanted was for Jude to love him. 

 _Be careful what you wish for._   
 He had never been needed like that; never had a lover whose desire threatened to consume him. Loving Jude was like falling into an abyss. Jude was exquisitely empty. No one person could make him whole, but Ewan tried. If he just gave, enough Jude would love him. He gave until he was as hollow as Jude. Then he met Eve. She made him feel human again. Eve loved him and everything she put into him he gave to Jude. 

 _Why didn’t I just let her go? She could have been happy._   
 Now she was empty, and soon Hayden would be too.

"Hayden," Ewan sighs. Shame rises. He didn’t want to think about the day that beautiful boy would become hollow. It was happening fast. Even that first night, nothing was held back. When they made love, Hayden opened himself body and soul. 

 _I take everything he has. There can’t be much left._   
Lately, he’d felt Hayden grow cold. The young man was starting to feel inadequate, to hate himself. Soon he would be ruined. 

 _Just like Eve._   
 Why the hell did Jude need so much? Why did Ewan want to give to him?

He enters the house quietly. It was late. Hayden and Eve would be sleeping. Well, Hayden was probably asleep, but he knew Eve would be awake. She couldn’t sleep when she was angry.

 _She has a lot of sleepless nights._   
 Ewan feels a too familiar twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach. 

The drapes are still open and moonlight fills the room. He notices Hayden’s shirt on the sofa, then the glint of broken glass in the corner catches his eye. 

 _Yeah, she’s real pissed. I hope she waited ‘til Haydie was out of the room._   
 The Scot sighs heavily. His lover was probably just as angry as his wife. Hell, maybe Hayden broke it.

He needs a good cup of tea. It’s soothing. Ewan opens the kitchen curtains rather than turn on the light. At this moment he prefers darkness. 

 _Damn, we’re out of chamomile. Earl Grey it is._   
 Waiting for the water to boil, he feels that twinge of guilt grow to a dull ache. He leans on the kitchen counter and puts his head in hands. 

 _I wish we had chamomile._   
 Ewan wishes many things. He wishes Eve didn’t cry. He wishes he could fix her. He wishes he could tell his wife he’s sorry, for everything. He wishes he could tell Hayden that he is more than enough. He wishes he could give his lover all that he’s taken away. He wishes he could have kept an ounce of the younger man’s love for himself. His wishes he had the strength to walk away from Jude. The kettle whistles and he turns off the stove. 

 _Tea won’t help._   
Ewan goes silently up the stairs, and prays Eve won’t want to fight.

 _Careful what you pray for._   
 He hears the moans, before he sees them. Hayden and Eve fucking like the world is going to end, crying, and screaming his name. Suddenly he understands pain. Everything the Scot felt before now is nothing compared to this hurt. He leaves noiselessly. Ewan is grateful to make it to the downstairs bathroom before he drops to knees. The nausea overcomes him. It seems like an eternity until the sickness subsides.

 _Hayden and Eve. Why? I know why?_   
 He leans back against the wall. He can still see them, fingers entwined, eyes closed, moaning. He closes his eyes against the image, but it only becomes more vivid. It will be with him forever.

 _I did this._   
 Broken, he forces himself to his feet and goes to the kitchen. The water is still hot. Tears slide down Ewan’s face, as he prepares the tea. He takes a sip. It scalds his throat, and tastes like regret.


End file.
